


And the strong go marching on...

by Lvl34Potato



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Drabble, F/M, Jacob has the feels, Not Beta Read, Not quite Dead Dove, Slight Cannon divergence, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 17:19:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15320400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lvl34Potato/pseuds/Lvl34Potato
Summary: On his deathbed, Jacob seed realizes two things. One: That he loves the Deputy. And Two: That he'll never get to tell her.





	And the strong go marching on...

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a little writing prompt that occurred when talking to [ZerahBallad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZerahBallad)

His lungs burned as he struggled to breathe in the chilled air of the mountains surrounding him. He had been bested, the war veteran taken down by the very soldier he had trained. Perhaps he shouldn't have betrayed her in the end, but he knew that it wouldn't have mattered either way. He had seen this coming, seen the fury in her eyes even as she was wasting away behind the bars of his cage. He had watched her take down his men with terrifying accuracy, he had felt her precision as her rifle round bored its way through him. He could feel his life slipping away between his fingers, his own heartbeat draining his body. She had always been one hell of a shot, he should have seen this coming. But his pride had gotten the better of him. He hadn't thought that she would manage to pick off all of the generators before he would be able to take her out. He hadn't thought of how exposed he would be up on top of the hill beside the wolves den. He hadn't thought about the fact that she had lived in these hills for months before he had ever thought of using them as his final battleground, that she would know them like the back of her hand. It was too late for thoughts now, too late for regrets.

He stumbled forward, dropping himself down onto a rock and waiting for the end, waiting for her. His mind ran over all of their interactions again, the flashes of his life that the media had always tried to sell to their audiences, that he had thought was fake, and it was nothing but her face, her voice, her smile. Jacob felt his lips twitch upwards at the edges, the thought of her lifting away a weight that he hadn't realized had settled on his shoulders. He heard her before he saw her. Boots on gravel, heavy breathing, pained sighs, and dripping wounds. She was hurt, badly. For some reason, that thought sent a shock of panic through Jacob, something that he had only ever felt after Joseph had slipped while marking himself and nearly gutted himself in front of him. He was confused, but he ignored it. That was a thought for another time, and he would never have that time to spare.

"You know... My brother saw all of this coming..." Jacob sputtered out, knowing that she was in range of hearing him finally. The words grated against his throat, his chapped lips split as he spoke, little droplets of blood running down his chin and disappearing into the red of his beard. "I don't know if he talks to God, doesn't matter. He was right." He took a moment to heave in a few breaths, feeling the bubbling of his blood inside of his chest, the ache in his lungs. He was running out of time.

Finally, she crested the horizon of the mountainside, rifle slung over her shoulder, left arm hanging limply at her side, an oozing wound pouring her life down in steady streams. Her hair flew around her in the wind, going this way and that, some strands clinging to her face around a wound on her temple that was sticky with coagulated blood. She was covered in gashes, bite marks, and her clothes were partially burnt away from the molotovs he had seen some of his men throw her way. But despite all of her faults, all of the obvious flaws in her personality and body combined, Jacob still felt as though he was looking upon an angel. And not one of Faith's twisted playthings either. No, the Deputy was an angel of death, the harbinger of doom that Joseph had preached to the project about. And hell followed with her. That was for damn sure.

"Humanity... Is once again... In crisis." He continued on, willing the image of her away as he blinked his eyes slowly. He was growing cold, the end fast approaching, he didn't know why he was bothering to talk, to explain himself. But he felt that she deserved it. "It doesn't matter... what we build or achieve..." He dropped his hand away from his wound, the blood pouring freely now, coating the rock beneath him, steaming as the cold air began to chill it. She came to a stop in front of him, watching him while she swayed on her feet. His eyesight was leaving him in spurts, the light around them all of a sudden both too bright and too dark for him to see anything clearly. The world was a haze, a blurry oil painting, but she still stood out among the splotches of color. Crisp and clear as the day he had first laid eyes on her through his rifle. "We will always find a way.." He sputtered, coughing a bit and watching as the red spittle left his lips and collided with her boot, co-mingling his blood with her own. "To break it down." He stopped to breathe again, eyes momentarily looking up to the sky, watching the blue begin to fade into gray.

"Babylon... Rome... Empires rise-" He coughed again, his lungs protesting against him as he pushed them beyond their limits. "Empires fall... America? ... We're no different." He raised a bloodied hand, curling his fingers back toward himself to beckon her closer. He didn't really know why, but Jacob knew that he wanted her near him. He was so cold, he wanted to feel her warmth, he wanted to touch her skin. He wanted the comfort of a body pressed up against him that he had never allowed himself in life. And he didn't know why. "We think we're indestructible..." He shook his head slightly, eyes never leaving her face as he tried to memorize every line, every bump, every bruise. The curve of her lips, the color of her eyes. Everything that he could, he stored away. The memory of her face would be the last one that he would ever have, and it had to be perfect.

"World war two. War on terror." He said as he grabbed at her arms, pulling her closer to him. Her skin was cold and clammy, but it comforted him all the same. His hands left bright marks on her skin, cherry red and cream. He could almost laugh at the irony of it all, that she would become the final thing that he painted in that combination... That she would become everything to him. His heart ached inside of his chest, he could feel himself slipping away. "We survived it, but it only brought us closer to the edge." He sped himself up, time was running low. The hourglass of his life was broken, sand falling through the cracks and leaving him cold and empty. "And this is where we are. Right. Here. On schedule, just waiting for someone to push us." He stopped to heave in a long breath, eyes studying hers as he did so. "And oh boy have you pushed us." He choked back, coughing again as he felt his lungs begin to gurgle, blood seeping into them, filling them with each passing second. "You did everything he said that you would do. And you didn't even know it." He stopped again to breathe, his words were coming slower now, his world was growing darker, and he was scared. The tough soldier that had once been ready to lay down his life was fucking scared. "You had no... fucking clue..."

She pulled away from him for a moment, and he let his arms fall limp at his sides, his heart ached at the loss, but a moment later he felt her hand on his knee, heard the crunch of gravel beneath her feet as she slid off of them, landing on her knees before him. She was breathing heavily, and from the new angle, he could see a gouge running across her back, streams of crimson flowing from it. She was bleeding out, dying before him just as he was dying before her. He didn't want that, his mind screamed out in pain at her loss, the thoughts in his mind finally connecting everything together. He loved her. Jacob seed had kept her around, he had trained her and treated her differently from every other soldier he kept not only because she was useful for this particular mission but because he had begun developing feelings for her. She made his stomach do flips whenever he saw her, she had even put him back in his place a few times. She had wormed her way inside of his heart, and he had never even realized it. He panicked, wanting to tell her to call for help, to pick up her radio and call someone, anyone.

He wanted her to **live**.

But her shallow breaths betrayed her, she was closer to her end than he had ever realized, so caught up in memorizing her face that he had missed the most important part. He glossed over how dull her eyes had been, how she was shaking while standing there before him, how her chest barely moved as she listened to him speak. His hand found hers, and he used what was left of his strength to shake her, feeling no resistance. Her head crashed down onto his thigh, and he screamed internally, heart racing in an irregular pattern, his blood pooled around him, joining hers. They were joined in a way that no two people should ever be joined, enemies, dying together on the battlefield. A horrid waste of life, an unwarranted death. Jacob breathed in, stifling the cry that tried to work it's way to his lips and only partially succeeding. His lungs wouldn't refill themselves, and he closed his eyes, leaning his head forward as his body slouched back against the rock behind him, his eyes opened to the skies again, but he saw nothing but her face.

The world which had been fading around him finally slipped away and the cold set in, his heart thudded to a stop, and his head fell forward, the hand that had been clutching hers loosened but her fingers remained locked around his, pinned as they were between their bodies.

 

* * *

 

 

Joseph's eulogy had come exactly as they had all expected it would, showcasing the shirtless man, bathed in red light as he spoke into the camera. The broadcast was everywhere, on every screen, every radio, every outpost through all of Hope county. He recounted the memories of his brother's life, told everyone the story of how he had thought of himself as nothing but a weapon without a purpose. He spoke of the deputy as well, of how she had put up a good fight against them all but had ultimately fallen alongside his brother. The strongest of the resistance and the strongest of the project had gone into battle and had fallen at each other's hands. No one would say it out loud, but everyone had known the meaning behind his words. There was no longer any fight to be had. Both sides had lost. And while the world would surely come to the end that Joseph had predicted, perhaps he had been wrong about who it was that would cause it. Perhaps the Deputy had not been the rider of the pale horse, perhaps she had not been Death, come to bring about the apocalypse. Perhaps she had been but a messenger, warning the project that the end was on its way. A test from God. One that they had failed.

As Joseph ended the broadcast his mind could only conjure up one line. He leaned back in the chair he had been sitting in, grabbing hold of his bible in one hand, his rosary wrapped tightly around the other. He flipped the book open, and read the first line aloud, thinking now that perhaps his words had meant more than he could ever have foreseen.

_**"The messenger is often attacked for delivering bad news... You will hear a great deal about me..."** _

Joseph closed the book slowly, raising up his left hand and feeling the click of the rosary beads as they moved against one another. A few silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he wrapped his brother's dog tags around his fist and said a silent prayer for his soul. Joseph Seed stood up after a moment and pushed himself onward with new purpose. The world was coming to an end, and his brother's death would not be in vain. The messenger had come, God had given him his warning, and they had failed to listen. Time was running low, and the collapse was close at hand. Joseph knew that he could spare no time, he must prepare his followers, he must be ready to walk to Eden's gate. And perhaps he would see his brother on the other side.

**Author's Note:**

> The quote at the end there is the first line of the actual Book of Joseph that Ubisoft released, in case anyone was wondering.


End file.
